Scandalous
by Vashka
Summary: During a ball, a boy meets a mysterious girl. Lord Malfoy certainly wasn't expecting his life to change with a simple introduction. A story in a series of short scenes. HP AU, Draco/Hermione
1. Introductions

**Title: Scandalous **

**Author: **Vashka

**Disclaimer: **In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.

**Summary**: During a ball, a boy meets a mysterious girl. Lord Malfoy certainly wasn't expecting his life to change with a simple introduction. A story in a series of short scenes. HP AU. Draco/Hermione

**A/N: This is AU. As in it takes place in a universe OTHER than JK Rowling's, but uses her characters. If this isn't your cup of tea, sail on! **

000

Chapter One: Introductions

000

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Malfoy."

The elegantly dressed girl curtseyed perfectly, her delicate pink lace fan fluttering enticingly over her corset-enhanced bosom. She smiled winsomely, showing off a set of perfectly straight teeth and a pair of dimples.

The man she so diligently tried to impress smiled thinly. "Likewise, Miss Brown." He returned to his uninterested study of the lively cotillion and Lavender pouted attractively. Her mother caught her eye from across the crowded room, and insistently tilted her head towards her companion.

_I know. I know,_ Lavender thought acidly._ I'm trying mother!_

"Quite the crush, don't you think? Lady Potter always throws the most spectacular parties," Lavender said, her high voice artificially cheery.

"Mmmm. I suppose." Lord Malfoy sipped his lukewarm punch, and the awkward silence resumed.

The chatter of the other members of the small circle suddenly became louder, as if noticing her failure, making Lavender more nervous. Lavender desperately groped for another topic of ladylike conversation. "The weather has been unseasonably warm for April, has it not?"

Lord Malfoy's smile soured slightly, but his reply was unfortunately interrupted by Lavender's next dance partner claiming her hand. Lavender took leave of the tall, handsome blond with a sigh of regret.

Mum going to murder me later tonight…

000

As he watched the girl wind her way through the crowd towards the dance floor, Draco breathed a small sigh of relief.

Damned parties and damned debutantes. Utterly boring! Draco leaned back against a cool marble column and turned his attention back to his circle of friends and acquaintances.

"If you didn't act so cold and distant, perhaps they would stop viewing you as their personal Everest." The amused voice of Blaise Zabini drawled. "Why don't you ask one of them to dance and put them out of their misery?"

Draco's thin lips quirked into a snide smile. "I don't possess your gift for feigned interest in every trivial conversation about fashion or the weather. If my mother wasn't so determined to marry me off, I wouldn't even bother with females at all."

Blaise arched a brow. "At all?"

Draco suppressed the urge to growl at the implication. "If you weren't my friend I would have to call you out for that."

"A good thing I am, eh? I don't fancy getting up that early for my exercise." Blaise sipped his punch, and nodded at the crowd. "You had best move along, if you don't want to be trapped in another eternity of boredom, then."

Draco shifted his gaze along Blaise's trajectory and spotted several other eager young female gazes and their even more eager mamas headed his way. Quickly, he said his farewells to his hapless mates and made his way out of the ballroom. However, the foyer was not the ideal place for privacy, and certainly not a place where Draco could relax his guard.

Fortunately, the Potter Manor house was one that Draco with which was familiar. His mother and Harry Potter's mother would often take tea together, and they would leave their young sons to play. When it became evident that Draco would rather push Harry into a stream than play nicely, and vice versa, Narcissa had stopped bringing him for elaborate play-dates. So while he didn't get along with the current Lord, he did know the handy escape routes. Quickly weaving his way past guests in various states of stupor, he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors to the back parlor. Opening the French doors, he smiled as the cool, fresh evening air hit his face.

As he walked onto the springy lawn, he felt the built-up tension eased from his shoulders, and Draco felt his annoyance with the world, his mother, and with women in general, slip from his mind.

The Potter Manor was famed for its fountains. One of the past Lords was rumored to love his wife so much, that he hired the best artists in all of Europe to portray her likeness in every artistic medium. London Society was scandalized when he hired a famed sculptor to carve statues of her in the Greco-Roman fashion for display in the gardens. The centerpiece of the display was a gigantic fountain, depicting the former Lady Potter as Aphrodite, half-naked and surrounded by sea-foam, her open arms beckoning to her lover.

The London misses thought it was quite romantic. Draco thought it was rather a waste of money.

Breathing deeply of the heavy scent of early-blooming flowers, cut grass and damp, Draco sat on the edge of the fountain. He didn't dare loosen his cravat, even though it chafed fiercely against his sweat-soaked neck. He settled for shedding his jacket and gloves, carefully placing them next to him on the clean marble. Draco dipped a hand into the cool water, longing to splash some on his heated face.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" A cool, feminine voice, clipped and precise came from the shadows, startling him with its nearness.

Draco started, the heavy cotton of his sleeve dipping into the water. Swearing under his breath, he righted himself before he could fall into the water and _really_ be embarrassed.

The light from the great house didn't reach this part of the garden, but the moonlight was bright and the night was cloudless, lending a hazy, eerie quality to the landscape. Draco squinted, trying to make out the intruder of his peace.

The girl was of average height, and dressed in formal wear. _A guest, then_. In the moonlight, he couldn't quite make out her coloring- just pale, pearly skin, dark hair piled up in curls, and pitch-dark, fathomless eyes.

She looked like a goddess.

He shook himself, annoyed with his fanciful musings. She was obviously a silly girl out here without a chaperone, something that no _proper_ girl would do. And to speak to a stranger without being properly introduced? Deplorable behavior. Yet as his mind calculated her faults, his eyes greedily drank her in, his body tense with anticipation.

Her eyes widened slightly, perhaps recognizing her faux pas. Slender white-gloved hands covered her mouth. "Oh! You're not who I… Oh! Well, Forgive me sir, for startling you. I will leave you to your privacy."

Hm. A lover's tryst? Draco thought, strangely dissatisfied with the obvious conclusion.

With an efficient, yet strangely elegant curtsey, she turned to leave.

"Wait!" The word was out before conscious thought and Draco could have kicked himself as she turned back, one dark eyebrow arched in question.

_No use for it now._ Putting on his most charming smile, Draco said, "We haven't been properly introduced."

The girl's brow shot even higher, but his statement must have tickled her fancy as her full lips quirked into a half-smile. "I'm not sure that is entirely appropriate."

At that, Draco's smile widened genuinely. "Certainly not. But as we are quite alone, no one will ever know about our unorthodox introduction, will they?"

Her smile deepened, showing a flash of white teeth. "But sir, how can I trust your acting skills are to the task?"

Draco smirked. "I assure you, if I can pretend interest through twenty conversations about the weather, I can pretend not to know you."

The girl gasped in mock outrage. "But if we cannot talk of the weather, whatever is there left to discuss?"

"Anything else," Draco said with feeling. Enjoying the novel impropriety of the introduction, and feeling a little wicked, he took her hand. The moment his fingers brushed hers, a spark of warmth travel to his gut at the contact. Without gloves, he was able to feel the heat of her skin through the thin satin. Caressing her slim palm slightly, carefully, he suddenly wished he could feel the texture of that skin, and wondered if it was as silky as he imagined.

Bowing over her hand, he introduced himself. "Draco Malfoy, Earl of Wiltshire, at your service, Miss."

When there was no reply in return, he looked up to see his companion's complexion leached of color. "Are you well?"

Her expression closed, unfathomable marble in the cold moonlight, she nodded. "I seem to be developing a slight headache. If you will excuse me."

She pulled her fingers from his hastily, as if leaving them too long in his would burn them. Curtseying quickly, she was across the lawn and into the bright manor before Draco gathered his wits enough to protest.

She never even told me her name…

Draco sat on edge of the fountain heavily, feeling strangely bereft.

000

A/N: Thanks to my lovely beta Ravyn for taking a look at this and making it readable. I've been absent from writing for a long time, through a combo of school, writer's block, and a broken arm. But I've been inspired lately, so let's see what I can do!


	2. Meeting Again

**Title: Scandalous**

**Author: **Vashka

**Disclaimer: **In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.

**Summary**: During a ball, a boy meets a mysterious girl. Lord Malfoy certainly wasn't expecting his life to change with a simple introduction. A story in a series of short scenes. HP AU

000

**Chapter Two: Meeting Again**

**000**

Draco didn't see her again for weeks.

It wasn't for lack of trying. He threw himself into the party circuit, stirring up gossip and the hopes of more than one ambitious mama. He scoured the crowds at the theatre, at lavish dinner parties, and at the endless balls to no avail. He was half-convinced that she was a figment of his imagination, and that even if he did find her again, she would undoubtedly be as disappointing as every other girl he had ever met.

Or so he told himself.

Currently, he was holding up a marble column in Lady Parkinson's grand ballroom, studying the dancers. He supposed that he should ask the dame's daughter for a dance. But he had known her at Hogwarts, and remembering the way she clung to his arm he thought better of it.

He scanned the crowd again, unconsciously searching out a half-remembered face, and sighed. _I'm chasing a ghost, _he thought, fingering his wand absently as he watched the bodies weave around each other in elegantly dignified patterns. The swirl of brightly colored skirts contrasting with the stark black of the gentleman's' dress robes absorbed Draco's attention. He briefly longed for the ability to be swept up in the romanticism of the music, to be brought to some high of emotion by a pair of fine eyes…

Abruptly, he turned his back to the dancers. _Time to give up this nonsense. _

He shouldered his way through the ballroom, politely nodding at acquaintances as he went, studiously ignoring the fresh, eager faces of the young debutantes as he passed.

As he exited the large room, there was a palpable drop in temperature and Draco took in a deep breath of cool, refreshing air. _The finest_ _cooling spells galleons can buy can only do so much in the face of so many elite crammed into such a small space. _

Meandering towards the card room, he noticed Blaise and Goyle involved in an intense game of baccarat and his mood soured at the thought of an evening frittered away at the gaming tables. In no mood to wager his money to try and fill the emptiness inside him, he indulged himself in a short game of billiards with Theo Nott before making his way back to the ballroom for a last appearance.

Making idle chitchat with Theo went against his nature, so thankfully the man was in a chatty enough mood for the both of them. He was in no temper to entertain. After a half hour so occupied, he said his farewells to Nott and made his way back the ballroom one last time to bid his adieus to the hostess. He scanned the room out of habit for one particular face. When he realized what he doing he diverted his eyes from the crowds. _She's not here. Stop being a soppy idiot. _

Quickly spotting Lady Parkinson, he wound his way through the crowd towards her skillfully, eager to take his leave.

And was spotted by just about the last person he wanted to see.

Narcissa Malfoy gracefully extricated herself from a crowd of other matrons and glided her way to her son, a smile firmly in place, her eyes cool.

Draco's smile thinned.

"Darling," she said, smiling. Lady Narcissa Malfoy was a beautiful witch.

"Mother." Draco bent and pressed a dry kiss to her perfumed cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," Narcissa said mildly. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."

Most would take this at face value. Those people had not lived with a professional manipulator for twenty-five years.

Draco had. As a survival mechanism (a man could only go to so many boxed luncheons before going insane), he became an expert on his mother, and his mother's often-cryptic speech. For instance, he knew, by her raised brow and the slight puckering of her lips, that she meant to say: _Your presence is surprising, which displeases me. It displeases me because you've been avoiding me for weeks, you ungrateful child._

Narcissa's bright blue eyes pinned him with a mild look. "Your father was quite shocked to see you at Lord Pucey's rout last week. We were not informed of your attendance." _Your father was apocalyptically furious. I would not advise a repeat experience. _

Draco sighed and put on his best chagrined expression. "My apologies, mother, I have been distracted of late. Business, you know." _I've been avoiding you with all of the skills I possess. I only regret being caught. _

Narcissa's brow puckered slightly. Draco knew that his mother was not fooled in the slightest. "Lady Parkinson's daughter was quite amusing yesterday at luncheon."

"How… diverting." Draco's smile took on aslight edge. _I have no interest in_ _your friends and their intolerable daughters._

"I'm hosting a small gathering tomorrow afternoon. Just a few friends and their… children…" Narcissa paused, her face a picture of innocence. _You will attend or there will be consequences. Painful consequences. _

Draco held onto his smile with the perfect control. _I would rather be vivisected. _"Of course I will attend."

Narcissa's blood red lips curled in a cat-like expression of satisfaction. She kissed his cheek in farewell and said, "I will expect you tomorrow for tea."

Draco grumbled softly, annoyed. Lady Parkinson had disappeared. _I need to get out of here before legions of other relatives fall from the palm trees._ Turning to leave, he glanced at the dancers one more time-

His heart stopped.

There she was, in the arms of another man.

**000**

At first, he couldn't quite believe his eyes. But there she was- the girl from the garden. The same sleek figure. The familiar profile. Her hair was barely contained in an elegant coiffure, a few springy dark curls rebelling and teasing the creamy skin of her nape, ruining the elegant impression. Her skin was just a shade too tan to be fashionable, her eyes just a little too bright, too intelligent.

She was dancing the waltz with Nott, laughing at something he said, showing too many teeth, her eyes crinkling a little. Her robes were stunning, a light periwinkle blue, modesty cut and baring less skin than was the fashion, but still very becoming. There was something about her, something… different.

Draco wove his way through the crush, stalking her movements with his gaze. He spotted Blaise loitering by an outrageously ridiculous arrangement of palm trees and faux tropical flora. The arrangement partially hid his friend while still giving him an excellent view of the dance floor. Perfect.

"Zabini."

"Malfoy," Blaise nodded languidly. He gestured to the floor with his crystal goblet and smiled. "Not dancing, I see. How unusual."

After the pleasantries were dispensed with, Draco said, with forced casualness, "Who's the girl standing up with Nott? I can't say I've seen her before."

Blaise squinted at the dancers, and hummed a little under his breath. Spotting the girl, his brows rose, an expression of surprise quickly fluttering over his features before he schooled his face into his customary expression of blasé amusement.

Draco, eyes sharp, caught the flicker of emotion and pounced. "Ah, so you know the girl?"

Blaise nodded slowly, taking a sip of wine. "Miss Granger? Yes, we've been introduced before."

_Granger? _Draco's brows furrowed as searched his memory. Had he heard the name before?

"I'm surprised that she merited an invitation."

Draco sucked in his breath sharply, and held himself very still. "Really?" he drawled, drawing out the word slowly, hoping to sound uninterested.

Drawing himself further from the dance floor and the other partygoers, behind the foliage, Blaise smiled in the malicious way of the _ton_, when one had juicy gossip. "Quite so. She is quite the little scandal in the making, actually."

"Oh?" Draco controlled his voice to show the right mixture of boredom and curiosity, eager to learn more about the girl.

"She's a mudblood," Blaise said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Draco felt the impact of the dirty words like a punch to his gut, and his eyes slid to the slight figure in blue as if by a magnet. "_What?" _he hissed.

"Her father, her _muggle_ father," Blaise spat, "Is very wealthy and travels in the highest muggle circles, with close connections to the muggle Royal family."

Draco hummed a little, lost in thought. "She is about our age. Why don't I remember her from Hogwarts?"

Blaise snorted, "Her father, once hearing of her magical heritage, disapproved. He was apparently relying on her to make a fantastic match in the muggle world, you see. The rumor is that she started to have more and more magical 'accidents' that couldn't be explained away, so he sent her to school. He packed the family away to France for seven years and sent her to Beauxbatons while the rest of the family passed their time in the French Court."

"That doesn't explain her presence here." The Parkinson's were infamous in their prejudice.

"She's a good friend of the Potters, and you know how unconventional _they_ are. And how much influence they have."

"I suppose," Draco said, his brows drawn together in an impressive scowl.

"She's powerful, you know."

"Powerful?" Draco blinked. "That little chit?"

Blaise chuckled. "Magically powerful enough that a few French Counts offered for her to strengthen their bloodlines." He nodded towards the dancing couple, "Nott may have heard of her exploits. He's unconventional enough that it may have crossed his mind."

Blaise shrugged languidly and drained his glass. "But, in all honesty, she's more suited to be someone's mistress. A shame to waste all that power on a by-blow, but that's the way of things."

Draco nodded absently, his eyes never leaving her graceful figure. _Granger… Why does that name sound so familiar?_

000

A/N: Yes. I've been away for a long, long, long while. Working 70-80 hours a week and having an infant will do that to you. I am still alive, barely. What little free time I have, I spend with my family, usually. I haven't abandoned any of my writing projects; I am just waiting for my RL to get a little less hectic. Thanks for understanding.


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